Page 59 of Deadly Deception
Embarrassment flushed through Daisy’s soul. “I’m a freelance journalist. An amateur, really. I don’t have any family, and only a few friends who I mostly communicate with via social media. I’m a bit of an introvert.” Her soul didn’t feel saddened by that fact. “I came across Vanja’s story by accident. Whispers on the net, just a hint here or there. It didn’t make sense. Vanja’s been dead for decades, and yet fresh mentions were popping up here and there. It was a mystery.” I could feel Daisy’s anticipation. She loved a good mystery, and had been pulled into this one.
“I started in Valparaiso first, then moved to Michigan City. It was difficult getting anyone to talk.” She felt and sounded frustrated. “Everyone’s so scared of her.”
I started to nod but stopped mid motion and said, “Her?” Franklin and Henson’s same response made us sound like a well-rehearsed chorus.
“Vanja’s a woman, didn’t you know?” Daisy asked.
“No,” Henson answered. “No, we didn’t.”
You know what they say about assumptions, well, I figured all three of us were feeling like asses right about now. Not that our victims hadn’t assumed the same, that Vanja was male. But they hadn’t known who Vanja was. We’d simply taken it at face value that Vanja was sporting a Y chromosome.
“Tell us everything you know,” Henson said, pulling out his own phone and hitting the record button. I didn’t blame him. I liked Witkowski and couldn’t imagine he was part of the problem, but one never knew. I’d learned over the years that humans could be sneaky. They often hid their perversions well. It was a trait humans appeared particularly specialized in.
The sun was setting and the area dim by the time Daisy finished, and I released her soul, collecting her ashes as we had the others. I took it as some comfort that Daisy had also been shot in the head and not tortured before her death.
Finished, I attempted to take a step toward my borrowed chair but wound up on my knees. Thankfully, the sand made for a soft landing. Franklin was at my side immediately and interestingly enough, Henson and Witkowski weren’t far behind.
“Erasmus?” I always knew when Franklin was truly worried when he used my first name.
“I’m okay. Just give me a minute.” I really needed a whole night, maybe two, but that had to wait. I also needed a carb-alicious meal. Both would be handled soon enough.
“Here.” Franklin shoved a handful of candy my direction. When I didn’t immediately grab a piece, he unwrapped a lemon drop and pushed it against my lips. “Suck on this,” Franklin said softly.
In my lightheaded state, I giggled. “I’d rather suck something else.” I waggled my eyebrows and managed to draw a reluctant grin.
“He must be okay if he’s making stupid jokes,” Henson said, backing up a little.
“I’ll be fine.” I waved him off and almost collapsed when I stupidly removed that bit of support. Franklin’s arm around my chest kept me from face planting into the sand.
“You will be,” Franklin reassured. “Eventually. It’s time to get some food, and then it’s into bed with you.”
I giggled again as Franklin lifted me. “You just want to see what else I’d like to suck on.”
“Good Lord.” Henson rolled his eyes. “I do not want to hear shit like that. O’Hare, get him out of here.”
“That’s the plan. Come on, Boone, climb up.” Franklin crouched, turning his back to me. I think Witkowski mighthave helped me clamber onto Franklin’s back. I’m sure I looked like a beached whale flopping about as I got my arms around Franklin’s neck and my legs situated around his waist. Franklin’s hands wound behind his back, cradling my ass. Once I was secure, he started walking away from what was left of the bonfire.
“Necromancer Boone,” Henson’s voice sang through the windswept dunes. Franklin turned so I could look at Henson. “Thank you for your help today.”
I grinned. “Said with sincerity. You’re slowly making your way onto my Christmas card list, Sheriff.”
I had the distinct pleasure of watching fiery red race up Henson’s neck, coloring his cheeks. He spluttered something incoherent before turning his back on us.
Franklin didn’t waste time. He trucked through the dunes. The man’s legs had to be aching. I’d try and remember to give him one of Pops’s pain charms when we got to the SUV. Then again, with my eyes drooping and the gentle sway of Franklin’s body below mine, I doubted I’d still be awake by the time we reached the car.
Waking up later to the scent of pasta and garlic bread proved how right I was.
Chapter
Twenty
Franklin
Vanja. A female.I shook my head while staring down at my phone, waiting on a text reply from Tompkins. I shouldn’t be so surprised, but statistically, females weren’t responsible for organized criminal activity nearly as often as their male counterparts. Don’t get me wrong, plenty of women killed, but not like this.
My phone lit up with Tompkins’s latest text.Navarre is about the same. Tabitha has cleared half a dozen spirits, but she says that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
I deeply exhaled, my attention turning to Boone. He was still dead asleep. I’d already fielded a call from his momma, and could only hope and pray I didn’t have to do the same with his pops. I could handle Lydia. Warlock Holland was trickier.
